


Autumn rain and Crappy Souvenirs

by Lullabymeth



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lullabymeth/pseuds/Lullabymeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James has always liked the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn rain and Crappy Souvenirs

An agent knows that sometime or another that their time on this sweet, glorious earth is short and eventually it will come to an end, occasionally quicker than most. It's the price to pay in service to the gracious Queen for honor and glory. That doesn't make it any easier to swallow when it happens.  
No one is quite sure what exactly happened, the target was making a run for it. Bond went in on one of his many chases, nothing he hadn't done before with Q directing him via ear piece. The problems start when the connection cut out, Bond could no longer hear Q nor see where his mark went, he was left standing in an empty courtyard. The young quatermaster is shouting at his team to hurry up and fix the connection, furiously typing away at his own laptop.  
It's when the gun fire starts he holds his breath for a second, pausing mid type. He can hear the shots ricocheting off the walls echoing loudly and groans as he think Bond is struggling with his target. The blasts are impossibly loud in his ear piece, "007! Bond! Can you hear me!?" Q is reduced to shouting through his mic. His shouts are ignored as the shots become less frequent until they stop.  
Two heart beats later and one final shot echoes.  
Q hears Bond grunt against the pain and the laboured breathing, his teams already sending out a recovery squad. His grip on the table is turning his hands white but he knows if he moves them they will shake uncontrollably.  
"James..." Q whispers quietly. 

It's strange how quickly time passes when you've lost someone you care about, the world spins on but your own world slows. The young quatermaster of MI6 is rushing home quickly through an autumn storm, the rain pouring down heavily. He's coming up out of the tube station closest to his home clutching a copy of the metro and using it as a makeshift umbrella. It's doing a poor job of keeping his glasses clear and his hair dry, but he's beyond care at this point. He remembers James would have liked this weather, said the unpredicatable winds and harshness of the rain made him feel more alive than a sunny day could. Q reaches his apartment soaked more than he would have liked he reaches into his pocket for his keys, pulling them out to unlock his door when he pauses. Dangling off his keys is a cheesy key chain from some tacky tourist shop in London, a union jack covered bulldog. He smiles standing in the rain, it is truly a horrible piece of work but then Bond's tastes weren't always on the mark.  
Opening his door and walking into his apartment, he realises how late it is. Q heats up some left overs and makes tea to warm him self up. The apartment is quiet and clean as usual but only a month ago it was filled with drunken convocations, arguments and cries in the throes of passion. Bond frequently visited Q at his home, at first he objected angrily at the break ins. Bond pestered him enough at work it was beyond him why he kept coming to his small flat in the middle of the night. They'd talk sometimes, Q gave up asking questions. They would talk about small petty things until politics or philosophy was involved then the arguments would go on the extended periods of time, sometimes resulting in James leaving. Especially when M was brought up. 

Q liked best the nights when Bond would stay, they wouldn't be harsh to each other, trying to get the best quip in last. Eventually they would lie in bed together, getting to know each other in better ways. It was at this point Q noticed he had left his food in favour of heading to his bedroom to crawl into the sheets that had only remnants of Bond's scent, Martini's and death. Wrapped amongst the sheets Q listened to the storm, wishing he was here with him. It was lonely in the apartment, he couldn't help the tears that slid down his pale cheeks as he gripped the sheets tightly. A bitter realisation of the grief that hit him after a month since he last heard Bond's voice, he just needed to hold on.

"Arn't you a bit old to be crying over a storm?" 

The gravely tone hits him like bucket of ice water, the brown locks of his bounce as he shoots a glance towards the door. A flash of lighting passes, igniting the room in pale blue light to reveal James Bond standing in the door way.  
Bond stands there in his trademark suit giving the boy an affectionate but tired smile. The image of Q sitting curled up crying on the bed they have shared many times in endearing, it's hard for James to stay away. He closes in on the younger man, taking him in his arms and laying him back across bed to kiss the tears that have escaped. Q pushes Bond back to take his glasses off and scrub his face furiously, he looks like a child that hates the fact he's been caught crying, eyebrows creased into a furrow. "Where the bloody hell have you been!?" 

Bond sigh's laying back into the bed, he see's Q's expression is torn between looking angry and relieved. One look he's seen more often than not, he's too tired to give an explanation "Doing my job Q, did you miss me?" James see's the second it takes Q's mind to get angry, he leans in for a kiss quickly. Q grumbles in protest but the emotions he's been fighting the last month finally break his barriers down and he lunges into the kiss, wrapping his arms around James' neck.  
Q pulls away from the kiss to look at James' face, the bright blue eyes are clouded with exhaustion even as he tries cover it with a devilish smile, there are more creases on his face than usual. He caresses James face, staring thoughtfully, hoping to figure this man out but knows it's futile. James takes hold of the Q's hand and kisses into the palm affectionately it earns him a scowl "Would it hurt to call next time?" Q complains but still rests his forehead against Bonds.  
James just continues smiling, pressing a kiss to Q kiss forehead and handing him something "I brought you something back"

"Fantastic. Another keyring"


End file.
